


Indiana Jones and The Golem of Prague

by IceWombat494



Category: Indiana Jones Series
Genre: Adventure, Archaelogy, Betrayal, Family Loss, Hebrew folklore, Holocaust, I was watching the movies and got inspired, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jewish Character, Kicking Nazi ass, Mary Sue, Multi, Nazis, Occult objects, Self-Insert, brief antisemetic language, leave me alone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-27 19:43:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20051509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceWombat494/pseuds/IceWombat494
Summary: The Second World War has ended. Dr. Indiana Jones has returned to his work as an archaeology professor at Barnett College. He hopes never to hear another word about Nazis, occult objects, or damsels in distress again. But then Marcus approaches him with word of a Jewish artifact recently discovered buried in a bombed-out area of France. But he is getting older and can’t crack a whip or throw a punch like he used to. He requires help. Enter Annalisse Gomez, a student of his class eager to make a name for herself in the field. A tale of adventure, revenge, love, and the kicking-ass of Nazis.





	1. Chapter 1

“Many have tried to find the Holy Grail, but none have even managed to set eyes on this object in thousands of years. It remains lost to the ages, and perhaps it will until the end of time.” Indy looked out over his students, an air of excitement hanging over their heads. He could see many of them were already planning dig sites and expeditions in their heads. Dreams of fame and glory danced behind their eyes. “Of course no one knows if the Grail itself even exists. And the idea that a single knight from the medieval ages could have survived all these centuries guarding a cup is laughable.” He himself of course knew that the Grail has fallen into a gorge due to his own butterfingers, but he wasn’t about to tell them that.

“Now I have your essays graded here on my desk, you may pick them up on your way out. Class dismissed.” The young men and women rose as one and left the classroom single file. Many would be disappointed in their grades, but others had clearly been paying attention to the more “boring” aspects of the class. Archaeology was not all being chased through tunnels by cult members or shot at by rivals of course. Once all the students had gone, he shuffled some papers around on his desk and rummaged in a drawer. “You don’t need to hide in a corner and act mysterious Marcus, we’ve known each other long enough.” His older associate stepped forward from his so called hiding space in the back of the classroom.

“Well you must allow me my small indulgences, Indy.” He joked in his light accent. “After all I don’t have many years left.” He quirked an eyebrow. “And it appears neither do you.”

Indy touched one of the healed over scars on his forehead. “You know I always enjoyed a challenge.”

“Yes....about that.”

His head jerked up to look at Marcus incredulously. “No. Marcus. No. I told you, I just want to teach. I can’t be risking my life anymore.”

“Indy, please hear me out. It’s only an excavation and recovery. The artifact itself has already been found. If one could even call it that.”

He shot his old friend a look of confusion. “What do you mean?”

Marcus sat at a student desk and beckoned him to do the same. “It appears that an occult-ish object has recently been...well...created. A young man in France was playing with some silly game meant to,” he made air-quotes with his fingers, “raise the dead.”

Indy chuckled to himself. “A Ouija?! Marcus you’re kidding me. That’s a kids game! Everyone knows it’s just someone moving the little pointer themselves.”

Marcus waved a hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, of course. The board is not the object I’m speaking of. The young man has supposedly trapped a sort of, well a Hebrew demon in a wine cabinet. And the building it was found in has been destroyed. A previously unexploded bomb apparently.”

Indy sighed. “That’s a fun story Marcus, but what does it have to do with me?”

“The museum board has asked you to excavate and retrieve the wine cabinet. They’re starting an exhibit on Hebrew folklore. I think now that the war is over they want to perhaps make it up to the Jewish people and educate the next generation. So that hopefully these atrocities never occur again.”

“But Marcus I can’t go all the way to France. My work is here. And it’s like you said,” he rose and returned to his desk to gather his things, the light catching his newly greying hair. “I’m getting too old for all this adventure nonsense.”

“Yes, that’s why we’ve selected an assistant for you.”

He blinks. “A what?”

“An assistant. Or rather I suppose an intern of sorts. Someone to do the heavy lifting. Take notes, gather your supplies, authenticate items, that sort of thing.”

He put his hands on his hips. “Well for god’s sake Marcus, you could have let me pick him myself, you know I have my preferences.”

Marcus scratched his eyebrow and looked down sheepishly. “I’m afraid it’s a she.”

Indy stared at him, the surprise and shock clearly painted on his face. “SHE?! Now I’m no sexist, but isn’t something like this dangerous? Especially a former war zone?”

“Oh give her a chance Indiana. She’s a student of yours. She’s had nothing but the best training from you, all she wants is a little field experience. France has been demilitarized for nearly 3 months now, it will be nothing but good food, wine, and some light digging. Go on, say you’ll go.”

He rolled his eyes. Of course he always loved sticking it to the the kraut menaces one way or another, but the war was won. And he was sick of all this magic, hocus-pocus, and mystic mumbo-jumbo. On the other hand. France was hardly Iskenderun or the jungles of India. The chance to discover a potential important artifact before it was lost to the annals of history would be nothing less than extraordinary. And an assistant would certainly be a help, even one with no field experience whatsoever. It also wouldn’t hurt to see a pretty face around a dig site. Not that he would ever attempt to seduce a student of course, but it would boost morale.  
“Fine. I’ll do it. Now who is this so called intern?”

Marcus clapped his hands together in delight. “I knew you couldn’t resist! I’ve asked her to wait in the next classroom.” They left together and entered the empty room next door. As promised, a young girl of about 21 years old was waiting eagerly. She stood quickly, a textbook nearly falling from her hands before she caught it. Indy squinted. Quick reflexes were important but she was clearly a bit clumsy. She pushed her slightly lopsided glasses up her nose and stretched out a hand.

“Hello again Professor! I’m Annalisse! I’m in your 10:30 class!”

He shook her hand and nodded, the name ringing a bell. He never paid much attention to his students faces, they changed every semester.

“Ah yes, Miss Gomez. You wrote that paper on the Aztec pyramids. Wonderful stuff.”

Her deep brown eyes glittered with delight. “Thank you sir! The subject meant a lot to me, I grew up on stories of the temples.”

He smiled. Clearly the girl had a passion for the work, he could see why she had been chosen. “That was obvious in your writing. It’s why I gave you such a high mark.”  
The smile she gave could have powered a city block it was so bright. Annalisse was rather adorable when you gave her a good look. Wavy brown hair tucked into a bun at the nape or her neck with quite a few wisps breaking free. A man’s green shirt and tan trousers suited her light olive coloring, though the sport sneakers were an odd choice of shoe. Charming, a little out of place, but plenty of brains. Yes he could definitely understand why Marcus chose her to accompany him.  
“We’ll Miss Gomez. Looks like we’re going to France.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dybbuk Box is a real occult object. According to Wikipedia (sue me), the Dybbuk Box was created when a Holocaust survivor accidentally summoned an evil spirit, or dybbuk in Hebrew folklore, while messing around with a Ouija board. He managed to trap the demon in a wine cabinet. The box was sold in an estate sale in 2001 and when the new owner opened it, he began to have nightmares of an evil hag, as did guests who stayed in his home. He then gave the box to his mother who promptly suffered a stroke the same day. The most recent owner not only experienced nightmares, but also developed a skin disease and began coughing up blood. He contacted his local rabbi, who sealed the demon back into the box and hid it away from the world.


	2. Chapter 2

Usually Indy slept quite well on planes. The sound of the engines were almost a lullaby. But this trip was impossible to sleep through. Annalisse has been brushing up on her near non-existent French. 

“Zhay voo-dray ach-tair oon croissant. Ooo est la sham-bray des dahmes?”

Listening to her was like having an ice pick driven into his ear. He pushed the brim of his fedora out of his eyes to glare at her. “Miss Gomez, please, give it a rest. You won’t learn the entire language in seven hours.”

She at least had the decency to blush. “Sorry Professor.” She closed her phrase book and stuck it back into the large book bag under her seat.

“Try to get some sleep.”

Annalisse attempted to tuck her feet under her legs. Her skirts made this awkward. Indy could tell that she wasn’t used to wearing such cumbersome attire. Her blouse was a size too big and the skirt two sizes too small. Even the fashionable shoes she was wearing tripped her up.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” He asked.

She raised her head from the window and turned to him, her glasses askew and her hair already in a state of dishevel.

“Of course not Professor.”

“Are all the outfits you packed like that, or did you have more sense when filling your suitcase?”

Annalisse rolled her eyes. “This was my mother’s doing. She told me, ‘Anna, all the ladies in France dress like this. Especially when traveling.’ She would prefer if I found a husband rather than any artifacts.”

Indy chuckled and shook his head. “Mothers.”

“As soon as we get to the hotel, I’m changing into something I can actually move in.”

“We’re not staying in a hotel.”

She took off her glasses and began rubbing the lenses with a corner of her sleeve. “We’re not?”

“No. A native plant consultant with the museum has offered us their apartment as well as their guidance through the city.”

“Well I hope they have enough bathrooms. If there’re anything I’ve learned from living with an older brother, it’s that you men treat restrooms like your own bear caves.”

He grinned. “I’ll try not to claw up the place.” Indy pulled his hat down and settled back into his seat, where dreams of flaky croissants and beautiful buildings awaited him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Annalisse is attempting to say is, “Je voudrais acheter un croissant. Où est la chambre des dames?” Or “I would like to buy a croissant. Where is the ladies room?” Personally I think that’s all the French you need.


	3. Chapter 3

"Keep up Miss Gomez, we can't be late."

"Coming Professor!"

He glanced behind him and saw her struggling to carry both of their bags as well as a tool kit bag. Indy took his bag from her.

"Just  because you're my assistant doesn't mean you have to do all the heavy lifting. My knees aren't that bad yet."

Annalisse nodded and readjusted her grip on the remaining bags. They had landed in Paris half an hour ago and the walk from the airport to the streets was proving to be arduous. At one point Annalisse had actually taken off her heels and began walking in  just  her stocking feet.  It was another ten minutes before a taxi driver accepted their fare, giving them an incredulous look after he noticed Indy's shoe-less assistant  .  When they finally arrived at the Tuileries Garden in the first arrondissment, Indy made sure to tip the man well .

"Is this where we're meeting our guide?"

"Yes," he answered. "Marcus said to meet them at the Nymphe statue." Dark clouds began forming over their heads. They wandered through the garden trying to find the meeting spot.  Annalisse attempted asking for directions from another visitor, but her French was so appalling the man  merely  laughed and continued on his way . When they at last reached the statue, a light drizzle was falling. A woman of about thirty-five years old approached Indy.

"Pardon Monsieur, are you Doctor Jones?" she asked in a gentle accent.

"Oui madame, I am."

She extended a delicate hand. "Mademoiselle Rachelle LeBlanc at your service monsieur. Monsieur Brody arranged for me to be you, comment dites-vous, tour guide?"

Indy shook her hand and took the woman in. Blonde hair in long, soft ringlets. Smoky grey eyes. Full, pink lips. Lovely. And a certain air about her that seemed to be  entirely  French. He gestured next to him.

"This is my intern, Miss Annalisse Gomez."

Annalisse set down her bags and shook Rachelle's hand, patting down her  steadily  frizzing hair .

"You must forgive my choice of rendezvous, it is one of the few public gardens untouched by the war."

"I would expect nothing less from a botanist."

She smiled  coyly . "But of course. Now if you would please follow me, I can show you to my flat. It is not far from here."

As they walked it began to rain. Indy thought to himself that the weather suited their surroundings. On every block there seemed at least three destroyed buildings. Roofs lay on the ground. Freestanding walls with windows empty of glass stood silent guard over abandoned lots. Children ran from piles of rubble to get out of the rain. Men and women searched in vain for scraps of food or treasured keepsakes from their homes.  He watched Annalisse's eyes fill with tears as she took in the eerie skeletons of the once incomparable city .

"I knew that sections of Paris had been bombed but..." she reached under her glasses to  angrily  swipe at her eyes. "I never imagined it would be this bad."

Rachelle paused and turned, her eyes growing dark with irritation. "Mademoiselle Gomez, how old are you?"

"Twenty-one years old."

"Then you were born after the Great War, oui?"

"Yes, I was."

Rachelle shook her head  bitterly . "This is the second time in my life mademoiselle that I have seen my beautiful country decimated by war. My home was completely leveled in Artois. My family came here seeking an escape from savagery. And now another war has devastated France. Nothing changes. Savagery is the one weapon that never empties of ammunition. Remember that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse my spacing, I cannot for the life of me figure out how to get it how I want it.


End file.
